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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396343">A Good Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestlestialbeings/pseuds/cestlestialbeings'>cestlestialbeings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unrequited Wincest [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Communication Failure, Dean Winchester Makes Bad Decisions, Heterosexual Dean Winchester, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season/Series 03, Sibling Incest, Unrequited</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:29:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestlestialbeings/pseuds/cestlestialbeings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is going to hell soon and it's his last chance to give a special memory to Sam, who has unrequited feelings for Dean. Dean takes a love potion to make him attracted to Sam for the night, but it's more potent than he thought it would be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unrequited Wincest [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Good Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean’s deadline for Hell is coming up in just a little over a week and <em>every damn thing</em> they’ve tried to stop it hasn’t worked. They’ll keep trying, up until the end, but in the meantime, Dean wants to leave Sam with some good memories.</p><p>“So you want a love potion,” Aaron says. Dean’s been here before, one of the stores with the hunter’s mark on the window, and he knows the shopkeeper, Aaron, is willing to look the other way on all sorts of things.</p><p>Dean shifts uncomfortably. “Sort of, yeah. Short-term, something strong enough to make the person who takes it bat for the other team, if you know what I mean.”</p><p>Aaron raises an eyebrow. “You’re looking for a potion to make someone gay?”</p><p>“Look, do you have something like that or not, because I can take my business elsewhere—“ And he’s hoping, really hoping that the guy will turn him down so he can walk out the door and forget about this stupid plan he came up with.</p><p>Aaron eyes him suspiciously. “What are you going to use it for?”</p><p>“That’s my business, not yours,” Dean says sharply.</p><p>“Fair enough,” Aaron says. “Hold on.” He goes to the back room and returns a moment later with a small bottle. “Enough for one dose,” he tells Dean.</p><p>“How much?” Dean asks, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.</p><p>“Three hundred.”</p><p>“Three hundred?” Dean says, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”</p><p>“Take it or leave it,” Aaron says with a shrug, and Dean can tell he’s not going to budge on this.</p><p>Dean’s tempted to just walk away, but he just wants to do this one thing for Sam, and it’s not like he’s going to need cash where he’s going, anyway.</p><p>“Fine,” Dean finally says, and tosses down three hundred-dollar bills. He hopes it’ll be worth it.</p><p>Aaron smiles and passes over the love potion. “Enjoy,” he says with a wink, and Dean fights back a shudder, not wanting to even consider what this guy thinks he’s going to do with this potion.</p><p>It’s dark when Dean makes it back to the motel. When he unlocks the door and slips inside, Sam is finishing up his salad and focusing intently on a book in front of him. He looks up when he hears the door open.</p><p>“Where’ve you been?” Sam asks.</p><p>“Running a couple of errands,” Dean says. “What have you been up to?”</p><p>Sam holds up his book. Some biography of a long-dead white guy whose picture looks like it may have made it onto one of the dollar bills.</p><p>Dean doesn’t bother asking for more details, because he knows he just can’t even bring himself close to caring. “Any plans for the rest of the night?”</p><p>Sam frowns. “Nah. Not really.”</p><p>“Okay. Good.”</p><p>“’Good’?” Sam raises his eyebrows. “What, do <em>you</em> have plans?”</p><p>Dean shrugs and slides into the seat across from Sam. He pours himself a glass from the half-empty whiskey bottle on the table and downs it. Nope. Not gonna be enough. He pours another and knocks that one back too.</p><p>“You okay?” Sam asks, starting to look concerned.</p><p>“Yeah.” Dean stands and heads to the bathroom, feeling Sam’s eyes on him as he goes. He shuts the door and splashes some cold water on his face. He feels another pang of doubt. He hopes he isn’t making a mistake.</p><p>It had been a long time since they’d talked about it. Sam had agreed to stay, after that night, but he never brought it up again and things, somehow, had gone back to mostly normal—as normal as their lives ever could be. A million things had happened between that night and now, and Dean thought enough time had passed for Sam to move on. So last night he’d pushed Sam to look for a girl at a bar they were at and Sam had said<em> I can’t,</em> and Dean had said <em>Why not?</em>, and Sam had replied<em> You know why. </em>And Dean did know why, and he felt guilty as hell about it. Sam had read it on his face and given him a reassuring smile. <em>It’s okay, Dean.</em></p><p>Dean pulls the love potion out of his pocket and looks down at it. He’s going to make it good tonight, better than the last time where he forced himself through it to keep Sam from leaving him. This is their last chance, and he wants to give Sam something that feels real, for both of them.</p><p>He pops open the top of the bottle, takes a deep breath, and downs it.</p><p>He slips the now-empty bottle back into his pocket and looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t feel any different. He frowns. Maybe it was a dud. Maybe he should go back to Aaron and demand his three hundred bucks back. Maybe it’s a sign that this whole stupid plan was a bad idea.</p><p>He sighs and opens the door again. Guess they’ll just spend another night wasting time as the doomsday clock ticks down.</p><p>He heads back over to the table to get another glass of whiskey. Just as he sits down, Sam glances up at him and Dean meets his eyes.</p><p>He’s jarred at how immediate the effect is. Electricity courses through his body, waking up every nerve, erupting butterflies in his stomach. The world around seems to fade as he looks at Sam, here in front of him, with his stupidly beautiful sunflower eyes and his cute, perfectly pink mouth opened just a little bit, and…</p><p>“Dean?” Sam says. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Dean <em>needs</em> to touch Sam. He needs to, right now. Almost on its own, his hand moves across the table to rest on Sam’s. Dean feels sparks, a deep pleasure in his gut at the contact. Dean licks his lips. He needs more.</p><p>“Dean,” Sam says. “You’re freaking me out, man. Say something.”</p><p>Dean can’t think of anything to say that would express just how much he wants Sam right now, so he doesn’t say anything. Instead he stands up, takes Sam’s hands in his, and pulls Sam to his feet too. Sam goes along with it, but hesitantly and unsure.</p><p>Sam’s eyes are confused as they meet Dean’s and <em>god</em>, Dean could get lost in those eyes. Had he ever really <em>looked</em> at them before? His eyes drift down to Sam’s lips and he wants… He wants… He <em>needs</em>…</p><p>He wraps an arm around Sam’s waist and leans in to kiss him, but Sam turns his head to the side and pushes Dean away. “Dean. What are you doing?”</p><p>“You, hopefully,” Dean says, cracking a grin.</p><p>Sam lets out a small laugh but shakes his head. “Really, man.”</p><p>“I wanted to give you something to remember me by,” Dean says, and he can’t pull his eyes away from Sam’s lips. He leans in slowly, drawn in, and Sam pushes him back again, a hand on Dean’s shoulder to hold him at a distance.</p><p>Sam looks closely at Dean’s eyes, like he’s searching for something, and then sighs. “Dammit, Dean. Did you drug yourself?”</p><p>“Not drugs. A potion,” Dean says, impatient. They can talk after, if they want to, but now Dean just wants to be closer…</p><p>Sam runs a hand down his face and sighs. “This is fine. We can wait it out. Do you know how long it’ll last?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Okay, do you have any left? Maybe we can make an antidote, or, or something.”</p><p>Dean’s hand absently runs over the pocket where the empty vial is. Sam reaches into the pocket before Dean can stop him and pulls it out. He reads the label, lets out a frustrated huff. He turns it around to face Dean. Dean reads the name of the potion, but it doesn’t ring any bells. “Do you know what this is?”</p><p>“An aphrodisiac?” Dean suggests.</p><p>“Yeah, but this specific type of love potion… The effect isn’t going to fade unless you, you know…” Sam waves his hands vaguely. “…Consummate with the object of desire.”</p><p>“So…” Dean tries to work out what Sam’s saying in his head, but it’s hard to concentrate when all he can think about is how far away Sam is and how much he wants to touch him. “Ah.” It takes a minute, but he gets it. “You’re saying we have to fuck.” He smiles.</p><p>“God. I can’t believe you’d do something so stupid, Dean,” Sam says.</p><p>Dean tilts his head slightly as he watches Sam talk. He’s cute like this. Mad. Not really what Dean was expecting tonight, but that doesn’t stop Dean’s complete fascination with every detail of Sam’s face, though it almost feels like he’s observing from outside his body.</p><p>“I’m glad I did,” he finally says.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have!” Sam says. “I’m over it, okay? I got over you.”</p><p><em>That</em> snaps Dean out of the day-dreaming stupor he was in. Sam is over him? That hurts, bad, like his heart is being wrenched from his chest. He wants Sam so badly, with every fiber of his being, and Sam doesn’t feel the same way. He has no idea what he’s going to do, how he’ll even survive, if Sam doesn’t want him back.</p><p>Dean must be making some pathetic expression because it’s only a second before Sam’s face softens. “Dean, I didn’t… I just meant that I understand that you’re never going to feel that way towards me. I’ve come to terms with that.”</p><p>“I <em>do</em> feel that way towards you. I want this. I want you.” His voice is pleading. <em>Please want me back,</em> he thinks to Sam. <em>Please.</em></p><p>“You don’t feel that way,” Sam says. He holds up the empty bottle. “This does. You’re going to regret it as soon as it wears off.”</p><p>“I don’t care,” Dean says, and he reaches out and grabs Sam by the flannel and pulls him close. “We’re going to fuck one way or another, right?”</p><p>“I don’t want to do this to you,” Sam says quietly.</p><p>“I want you to.” Dean kisses him, and this time Sam melts into it, kissing back slow and gentle and like it’s something he’s been waiting so, so long for. Dean wonders if he’s been waiting for this too. It’s never, ever felt this way with anyone else. The all-consuming desire overwhelming him, the warm feeling of love permeating his body. This is it.</p><p>Dean runs a hand up under Sam’s shirt, over those perfect abs. Had Dean seriously never, not once, taken the time to appreciate these muscles? The other hand slides down to palm Sam’s hardening dick through his jeans, and Sam inhales sharply. Dean looks up at Sam’s face and smiles. Sam’s pupils are dilated and he licks his lips. Dean can’t wait to make him moan.</p><p>“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Sam says a little breathlessly.</p><p>“Let’s make this last as long as we can,” Dean replies with as seductive a grin as he can manage.</p><p>It’s the worst sex Dean has ever had in his life. A quick, almost mechanical hand job from Sam. A slow, intimate hand job for Sam that Sam doesn’t seem to appreciate at all.</p><p>“We both came. That should be good enough,” Sam said, and that was it. Sam’s fully dressed again as soon as they’re done, but Dean stays in just his boxers, still wanting to be as physically close to Sam as he can, with nothing in the way.</p><p>Sam holds Dean in his arms, after, as they lay in bed. It’s not enough for Dean, not even close to enough. He still has so much Sam to explore, so much more to feel, but Sam shuts him down when his mouth gets a little too close to Sam’s, or his hand on Sam’s chest wanders a little too far south. “It’ll wear off in a few hours,” Sam says. He sighs. “Seriously though, Dean. A love potion?”</p><p>“A few hours left to do some more,” Dean says, and he presses a kiss to the arm Sam has wrapped around his shoulder. “It’s not too late.”</p><p>“You understand why I can’t, right?”</p><p>Dean frowns. “No.”</p><p>“You’ll understand in the morning.”</p><p>“We’re seriously not going to do anything else?” Dean grumbles. “You’re such a tease.”</p><p>Sam doesn’t grace him with a response. Dean just lies there in bed, savoring the warmth of Sam next to him, the near-overwhelming feeling of love towards his brother, the fuzzy feeling he has in his chest, until eventually he falls asleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean wakes up in the morning with a bad headache. At first he just wishes the light streaming in through the gap in the curtain would go away. Then bits and pieces of last night come back to him. Begging Sam for sex. Sam asking him why he’d done something so dumb. The boring hand jobs. Cuddling through the night.</p><p>The bed next to him is empty now, though, and cold. He yawns and sits up, hoping to god that Sam is out for the morning so he won’t have to face him yet.</p><p>“Good morning,” he hears from the next bed almost immediately.</p><p>He looks over. Sam looks fresh and ready for the day, and he’s holding out a cup of coffee for Dean.</p><p>Dean groans and rolls over, pulling a pillow over his face to hide the red rushing to his cheeks.</p><p>“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sam asks, his voice muffled.</p><p>“No,” Dean says. He moves the pillow to the side just enough to make eye contact and say, “Do not ever bring this up again, or I’ll kick your ass.”</p><p>Sam cracks a smile. “Come on, Dean—“</p><p>“Not a word,” Dean says, trying his best to seem intimidating, but now Sam is just holding back a laugh. Dean sighs and sits up, snatching the cup of coffee from Sam’s hand and taking a long drink. “I was just trying to be nice,” he mutters, and now Sam actually does laugh, and Dean can’t help but grin a little too. His plan might’ve backfired, but it seems like this’ll be a good memory for Sam anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thoughts and constructive criticism welcome :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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